


Bright Lights

by givegoodfeeling



Category: Take That
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givegoodfeeling/pseuds/givegoodfeeling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gary got given the keys to his new room last week he wasn’t sure what he was going to expect. An AU where Mark is a university student and Gary is a socially-awkward-weird boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Just the usual disclaimer. Characters aren't mine and all that jazz. I found this in my documents and I apparently wrote it in November so, enjoy!

When Gary got given the keys to his new room last week he wasn’t sure what he was going to expect.

The landlord had said that the people in the rooms around him were nice, and that he was situated on the second floor. They had a party together once a week, which was fine. Gary could turn up to some of them. 

But he wasn’t quite expecting to have a party on his first night. Especially one he isn’t invited to.

He sits at the little desk with his MacBook and writes out some new songs, but all he can hear is _thump thump thump_ of the cheesy, awful bass line that has no distinction to any other crappy club music above him.

He puts his headphones in and turns the volume up louder. It still doesn’t help.

So he groans, his face in his hands. He can tell this was a mistake already. _Why did his mother have to throw him out?_

 -----

The next morning he is walking down the stairs to the ground floor when he bypasses possibly the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life. He’s small and thin, with brown short hair and a nose ring and these _piercing_ blue-green eyes. Gary’s thankful there’s a handrail.

He feels frumpy as he grazes against this angel, but he feels him mumble a, “sorry,” and he suddenly feels like the most handsome man in the world.

He walks out of the door and keeps on going, not actually remembering what it was he was doing, but he ends up going to the local shop and buying a dozen cans of beer.

He’s making his way back up to his room when he sees Perfect Guy standing a few metres away from his door, talking to a girl. Half of Gary wants to go up to him and introduce himself, but the shy geek inside him makes him shuffle to his room.

Leaning against his closed door, he throws the beers on his small bed and takes a deep breath. This guy makes his heart pound, makes his legs feel weak, and he’s not sure why. He’s never been romantically involved with guys before.

A sudden knock on the door scares Gary shitless and he jumps a few metres, before composing himself and opening it (and hoping he doesn’t have a pained expression on his face).

It’s Perfect Guy. Gary gulps. “Hi.”

Perfect Guy sticks a hand out and smiles, showing all his teeth. “’ello, I’m Mark.”

“Gary.” He grabs his hand and shakes it. Is he gripping it too tight? How long is he meant to shake it for before it seems weird?

“…So you’ve just moved in?” Mark lets go of his hand and Gary’s wondering why he hasn’t left yet? He scratches the bleached hair at the back of his head.

“Yeah. I, um, I actually moved in yesterday.” Mark’s face lights up even more.

“So you came to the party upstairs?”

_Well this is awkward._

“No…you’re the only person who’s really spoken to me, so I didn’t get invited to it…”

Gary can tell Mark feels just as awkward as he does right now.

“Well, next time then, yeah?” Gary nods. “Oh, and if you’re free tonight, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the floor. Where are you studying, by the way?”

Studying? “Um, no where? I just needed a room to rent cheaply and got shown here.” Gary frowns, and then realises. “Is this student halls?”

Mark shuffles on the spot and leans against Gary’s doorframe. “Well, yeah, kind of. Don’t worry though! Not everyone here studies.”

Gary’s frown probably still doesn’t convince Mark, because he’s suddenly touching his shoulder. “Gary, it’s fine! We’re all here every day. It’s not like you’re here on your own.” 

Gary eases up a little bit.

“And you get all the student rates that we do!”

Gary eases up a little bit more. Mark’s hand hasn’t move from his shoulder.

“I have to go,” Mark says dejectedly. He looks Gary in the eye and says, “I’ll come back here at around six to introduce everyone to you. Don’t look so frightened!”

He walks off. Gary stares at him as he does so. He’s never felt so useless in his life before.

 -----

Surely enough, Mark does come to get him, at precisely six on the dot. But instead of dragging him into the shared common room space, they end up sitting on Mark’s bed.

Gary’s biting the loose hangnails. He clears his throat.

“So what course do you do?”

Mark must be in his own world because he snaps his head up, startled.

“Sorry,” he apologises. Gary blushes and he doesn’t know why. “I, um, I’m doing event management.”

Gary nods. Mark smiles. “What would you do if you went to university?” he asks.

Gary thinks for a moment. He’s not that good at anything except music, but he wouldn’t want to take music as a course. He believes music is something you learn and adapt to yourself.

“Geography,” he blurts out. Mark would probably laugh at him if he said music anyway.

Mark nods. “Cool.” It’s not really, but whatever.

Gary looks at his watch. It’s nearly seven.

“I have to go.” Mark looks up, his eyes look sad. “I’m sorry, I have a job interview. My parents refuse to give me a helping hand with loans and stuff.” Mark crinkles his nose but doesn’t say anything except, “where’s the job interview?”

“It’s at the Secret club in the town centre.” Gary smiles at Mark’s shocked expression. “You know of it?”

“Yeah,” Mark admits, and pushes his toes into Gary’s denim knee. Gary feels electric at the touch.

“So I-I’ll see you later?” Gary stutters, climbing off the bed.

“Uh-huh,” Mark hums, licking his lips. Gary stares until he realises how creepy he must seem and bolts out of the door, trying to hide his rapidly growing erection.

 -----

The next day Gary doesn’t get out of bed except to go to the toilet. He’s too socially awkward to go into the common room or kitchen on his own – he’s brought his own mini grill and mini fridge, though he’s pretty certain that breaches the health and safety of the flat – so he chooses to just compose songs on his MacBook instead.

He’s halfway through adding the drum beat to his new track when there’s a knock on the door. He freezes. He’s in his underwear and hasn’t showered in three days.

“Who ‘s’it?”

“Mark.”

He carefully places his laptop on his bedside table and then rushes out of bed to answer the door, only feeling self-conscious once he opens it.

Mark looks down at his half naked body and grins. “Hi.”

Gary feels his whole body flush red. He gulps and tries to avoid eye contact.

But Mark’s pushing his way into the room, eyes wavering over Gary’s messy bed and his drawn curtains. “Everything alright?”

Gary closes the door and mumbles a, “yeah,” and cursing at how not-alright he sounded.

Mark whips round and eyes Gary like a hawk. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

And before Gary can even conjure up a response to that, he stupidly blurts out, “why?” like the dickhead he is.

Mark doesn’t look hurt. He looks at Gary blankly instead and says, “Because I’m your friend.”

Something about that makes Gary’s heart burn. He has a friend. Mark likes him.

He sighs and sits back on the bed, his fingers raking through his spikey blonde hair. “I guess I feel useless. I’m twenty years old and I’m doing fuck all with my life. I’m too unmotivated to do anything whilst everyone around me is getting an education and a future.” He curls into himself and begs his chest not to cave in.

Mark sits down next to him, probably not expecting this onslaught of depressing emotions. “Hey, none of that. Don’t be daft.” Gary knows Mark has no idea what to say. But what he does say is, “right, we’re going out tonight.”

Gary stares at the lonely bottles of rum in the corner of his room, gathering dust.

“You’re gonna have fun and I’m going to prove to you that you are a very clever human being.”

“By getting me wasted? How does that mean I’m clever?” Gary mumbles, but Mark’s already bouncing out of the door.

“See you in an hour!””

 -----

He knows he’s going to hate it the minute he steps into the awful nightclub. He mentally criticises the music, _that beat is too staccato_ and _too much reverb_ and then he wants to beat himself up because no _wonder_ he has no friends.

Mark’s already at the bar and he’s waving Gary over, thrusting two shot cups into his hands. Gary wants to ask what it is, but he notices a couple making out on the seat next to him and curses under his breath, downing the horrible shots one after the other.

He shouldn’t have done that.

“Fucking hell,” he shouts at Mark, who’s laughing at his painful face, before downing his own shots.

Gary looks around at the dingy club and hates everything about it – the purple, sleazy walls, the smell of sweat and smoke and pure vodka, the outfits people wear…he just wants to go back into bed and cry himself to sleep.

But then Mark’s dragging him onto the dance-floor and butterflies appear in his stomach. They’re dancing to a fast song, but truth is Gary can’t dance for toffee. He probably looks like a bit of a tool, but he tries to copy Mark and look as good as him.

Mark’s so close to him. Gary can count the eyelashes, can see his dilated pupils, and can feel his alcohol-ridden breath on his lips…

It becomes all too much way too soon. Gary’s head spins, his vision becomes blurred and he stumbles into Mark. He can feel Mark mumble something, his voice vibrating down to his core, but he pushes past the faceless bodies until he reaches the smoking area, sighing at the sudden coldness on his face.

He’s offered a cigarette and he takes it, mumbling a ‘thank you’ as he leans into the lighter. He’s not a smoker, but he feels like he needs it right now.

His head has stopped spinning, and his vision has improved. He puts out his cigarette and makes his way back to the dance floor.

The music pounding into his ears is not welcome though, and he hates the fact he’s only here because it’s _Mark_. His only friend.

Searching the dance floor he finally finds him. He’s about to wave but freezes mid-way. Mark’s with someone that has long blonde hair and he can’t tell where he ends and the other person begins.

Gary feels ten times worse than he did this morning. He clenches his fist to stop his eyes watering, and makes for the exit.

 -----

He doesn’t hear from Mark for a week after that. It might be because he doesn’t leave his room unless it’s to go to work or to go to the shops to get more food.

Mark’s probably given up on him. Not once has Gary made an effort. The way he sees it (probably) is that Gary is a weird, socially awkward guy who doesn’t leave his room. Why would he want to be friends with someone who can’t even be bothered to wash his hair?

Gary doesn’t even know which room is his, so he can’t go and apologise for vanishing the other day. Not that Mark would care. He doesn’t even know that Gary is a withering mess around him.

He puts on his black button-up shirt and spikes up his bleached hair. He grabs his keys, his phone and his iPod, takes a deep breath and leaves his room.

He runs down the stairs two at a time. He can hear voices. Someone’s coming up. He knows that voice. There’s nowhere to go.

Mark takes a sharp turn and nearly face plants into Gary, but Gary is much quicker and sidesteps. Mark looks at him, as if he’s about to say something, but then someone calls up from above them, “alright Mark! Let’s get the party started!”

His eyes get big and he looks sad. He gives Gary one of the most apologetic looks and brushes past him.

Gary tries to block out the rage he’s feeling that Mark hasn’t bothered to see if he’s okay or to even invite him to the party. He really must think Gary is a pathetic, wimpy kid, that he’s too embarrassed to be seen with.

Shoving his earphones a bit too roughly in his ears he pushes his way into the night, preparing for another horrible night of serving drinks and listening to old men ramble on about how they can’t get an erection.

 -----

He’s somehow managed to convince the bar manager that he’s really good at his job, and he’s somehow managed to get full time hours, which is exactly what he needs.

The best thing about his job is that it’s not at a nightclub. It’s at a small bar that plays relatively decent music and doesn’t get rowdy with football fans or hormonal teenagers. There’s live music every Saturday night and Gary watches the acts in awe, wishing he was good enough and confident enough to be up there playing.

Today is a Thursday, and it’s quiet. Not a lot of people come in on Thursdays. Gary’s cleaning the bar, singing along to John Mayer – he gets to choose which music they play when the nights are like this, which he loves.

He’s cleaning around the tap when someone suddenly yells out, “you’re not a bad singer!”

He spins around quickly and defensively, a whole speech lined up about how he’s not good enough when he notices that it’s Mark who said it. Mark’s at the bar. Mark’s in front of him. Mark.

“Hi,” he says. Mark smiles. “Why are you here?”

Mark shrugs, pulling his leather jacket off of his arms. “’S’nice and quiet in here. I come here to think sometimes.” Gary nods. Half of him wants to ask Mark for ID for a joke, but the other half is really curious as to why he’s here. He knows that’s not the real reason.

“What can I get you?” he mumbles, turning back around to throw the cloth onto the table. When he turns back around, Mark’s looking at him with those big eyes again.

“An explanation.”

Gary stares him out, waiting for the laugh, or even a reason as to why he thinks Gary owes an explanation, but Mark stays silent.

“I have to serve you a drink otherwise you can’t stay here,” Gary blurts out, turning back round. He can sense Mark rolling his eyes behind him.

“Fine. Vodka and orange.”

Gary makes the drink and refuses the money when Mark offers it to him. Instead, he rests his hip on the corner of the bar and runs a hand through his hair.

“I guess…I’m a bit of a hermit.”

Mark’s lips turn up on one side. “Yeah.”

“I like you Mark, I just don’t know how to be a good friend.”

Mark is still looking at him with those big eyes. “Friend?”

Gary nods. He looks down at his patent shoes.

“Do you know how to be a good boyfriend?”

Gary frowns. “No.”

And then a hand is pulling him by the shirt and he’s inches from Mark’s face. “Well you’d better learn.” And then Mark’s lips cover his and the bar is digging really uncomfortably into his stomach but he doesn’t care because _what is happening?_ _Am I dreaming this?_

He can vaguely hear jeers in the background but he honestly doesn’t care. Any second now Mark will pull away and probably laugh, telling him it was a dare, so Gary wants to marvel in this amazing feeling while it lasts.

Mark eventually pulls away and Gary’s dreading what happens now. He’s still holding the back of his head, his fingers running through course blonde hairs. His eyes run over Gary’s lips. He’s never felt like this before.

“When do you,” Mark starts, and then clears his throat. “When do you, er, finish?”

He doesn’t know how, but Gary musters up enough voice to say, “midnight.”

And then Mark lets go and is walking backwards, not breaking eye contact with Gary. “I’ll see you at around midnight then.” And then he’s out of the door, and Gary is still half bent over the bar, wondering why on earth that just happened.

He looks around. No one has noticed. He feels like he just acted out a scene in a movie. Composing himself, he adjusts his _very_ hard dick in his work trousers and grabs his cloth, pretending that he’s not going to be replaying that kiss until it gets to midnight.

 -----

He’s in the apartment building by ten past twelve. He doesn’t know where Mark’s going to be or what’s going to happen now, but he knows he wants it, and he’s not going to fuck it up.

Striding up the stairs to the second floor, he ignores the fact that he’s seriously unfit and out of breath and he stops and stares. Mark is sitting outside his door.

It’s perhaps the most emotional time in his life right now. He doesn’t know what to do.

Mark notices him and slowly stands up, waiting. Gary doesn’t even think, doesn’t wait for Mark to make the first move. He walks over to him, places his hands tenderly on either side of Mark’s face, and kisses him as deep as he possibly can.

Mark lets out a little squeal of surprise but places his hands on Gary’s waist, squeezing, letting him know that he wants this.

Gary removes one of his hands and digs around in his pocket for his key, trying not to break the kiss, and silently cheers when he retrieves it. He suddenly pushes Mark into the door, loving the way he moans, and manages to open the door with one hand.

They get inside and Gary swivels them round, pushing Mark back up against the closed door, and pulls back and just looks at him. He looks turned-on and terrified, and Gary’s sure he probably looks the same right now.

“Hi,” he murmurs against Mark’s lips. Mark pecks them and grins cheekily. “Are we going to talk about this?”

Mark falls back onto the balls of his heels and leans his head against the door. “I like kissing. Talk later,” and with that, he grabs Gary’s bleach blonde head and pulls him into another kiss.

Gary has no idea what’s happening right now. He hadn’t made his feelings for Mark obvious and vice versa. He didn’t even know Mark liked men. He still feels a bit curious about the whole thing, but right now he’s going to enjoy the kissing.

And Mark’s really going for it now, flexing his jaw and making out like there’s no tomorrow, and he’s bloody good at it. He flicks his tongue over Gary’s taste buds where it’s sensitive and he shivers because it feels _so good_.

So good, in fact, that Gary is rock hard.

He wants to push into Mark but he’s not sure whether they are going to get any further than kissing. Gary likes the kissing, but he also likes his dick getting touched.

Mark can somehow read his mind because he’s pushing up into Gary, his hands tightening around his head, and he’s mewling like a cat. His dick is scrubbing up against Gary’s, the denim being all too restrictive right now.

Gary’s jaw is starting to ache so he slows down the kissing, eventually pulling off. Mark looks spent already – his eyes are lust-filled and his mouth is red and coated with saliva. Is this what university does to you?

He looks slutty, and if Gary didn’t feel so awkward he would do everything possible to Mark right now.

“Can we –” Gary pants. Mark licks his lips. Gary gulps. “Can we, er, do this on the bed? My back hurts.”

Mark looks at him with those eyes and _God_ he looks sexy. He replies with, “Only if we can do it naked,” and Gary nearly falls over at his frontness.

He nods until he’s sure his head’s going to fall off.

The next thing he knows he’s on the bed, shirtless and pantless, with Mark on top of him. They’re grinding and it’s pure _ecstasy_. The way their dicks rub with nothing but a thin layer of cotton between them. Gary didn’t think it was possible to feel like this. Especially with another man.

But Mark looks pure sex above him, his toned arms pushing him up as he continually moves up and down on his cock. It’s a sight he wants to see forever.

And he’s so close, and he thinks Mark’s close too, because his lips have formed an ‘O’ shape and he’s doing some erratic movements as opposed to his long and slow ones.

Gary quickly pulls his dick out and scrambles for Mark’s stroking them both rhythmically. Mark falls down onto Gary’s chest and kisses him harshly as he lets the pleasure take over him and comes all over their chests.

Gary’s moaning and stroking once, twice, and then he joins Mark in that state of bliss, his eyes rolling back as he comes in between them.

They stay like that on the small bed for a few minutes, breathing deeply and kissing every so often. Gary isn’t sure what the situation is now but he has a feeling it’s something really, really good.

The thumping bass from upstairs distracts him from his thoughts and he pushes Mark off of his chest lightly to get something to clean them up with. When he returns, Mark’s leaning on his side, watching him. His hair is sticking up and he looks fucked. A pang in his heart realises that it was because of _him. He_ made Mark feel like that.

“Do you want to go to the party upstairs?” Mark says suddenly. Gary walks over to him and mops up his sticky stomach and coos when Mark pulls him in for a kiss.

“You know what, I wouldn’t normally turn that offer down, but tonight I’d like to have you all to myself. Is that alright?” Gary sits on the bed and Mark immediately leans on his chest.

“You can have me every night if you want,” Mark murmurs. And Gary hums. He honestly couldn’t think of anything better.


End file.
